


down, down, down

by millipii



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Basically Alfie Goes To Hell, Fluff, God screwed up, Hell, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Slow Build, cuddling ensues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:16:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7344532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millipii/pseuds/millipii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>samandriel isn't supposed to be there.</p><p>adam comforts him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	down, down, down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheAlmightyMochaLatte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAlmightyMochaLatte/gifts).



> here you go sydney take ur adamandriel fic i hope ur happy now :))
> 
> after way too much work to upload a single fic i finally wrangled ao3 and managed to post this so
> 
> enjoy??

Darkness.

Samandriel struggles against the thick, tar-like darkness that clings to his eyelids. It pulls at his clothes, his hair, pressing his ribs together into cliffs of bone harder and harder until he can almost hear them grinding against each other inside his vessel. A sharp pain jerks at his head, the dulled throbbing sensation growing as he feels his limbs jerk beneath him. Samandriel doesn't hear himself scream, but the tearing at the back of his throat tells him that he hasn't stopped since it happened. Since he died.

_It wasn't supposed to be like this._

He is falling. This he knows for certain. For a fleeting second, he grinds his teeth, wondering whether or not Castiel was alright, if he understood what Samandriel was trying to say. 

Without warning, he hits the ground. The breath is knocked out of him clumsily, waves of pain crumpling his vessel into a huddled mess. At the abrupt stop, his eyes fly open, wide and flitting from place to place, taking in the glowing orange flames at the edges of the unknown world around him. He groans, red flashing before his eyes. A thin wispy substance slowly filters through his fingertips, disappearing into the uplifted black soil beneath him. _His grace._

While the last remains of who he was melt into the ground, Samandriel slides his eyelids closed and breathes a shuddering breath.

Sleep comes quickly.

~~~

"Hello?"

The rough voice jolts Samandriel awake. He quickly dismisses the protesting of his body as he sits up quickly, head spinning. He can't pinpoint the location of the voice, but his fists clench anyways, sharply turning around to face the farthest end of the tunnel he seemed to be trapped in. 

"Who's there?" he hears himself whisper, vocal cords grating to life. The noise echoes around him, covering the sound of light footprints coming up behind him until it was too late.

"Don't move."

Chills run down Samandriel's spine as the person behind him lays his heavy hand on Samandriel's shoulder.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise." Male. Medium pitched. Samandriel doesn't pick up any traces of demonic presence in him, but he isn't sure if that's because of the loss of his grace or if the man was actually safe. "Just... Sorry, just-" the man grunts. "Turn around, man?"

Samandriel swivels to face a pair of stormy eyes attached to probably one of the prettiest faces he's ever seen during his time on Earth.

"Did you just call me pretty?"

Samandriel blinks. The eyes take a step back to reveal a man with rumpled ashen hair, dirt streaked across his even cheekbones.

"Sorry," Samandriel says without thinking. "I like to observe people, and sometimes it's hard to filter my thoughts." The man lets out a half-chuckle, quirking an eyebrow.

"And who exactly are you?" The man questions. "You're the first human I've see down here in ages." Samandriel's answer comes after a minute of thought.

"I am- was the angel Samandriel." A bead of sweat trails down the man's jawline and Samandriel can't bring himself to look away.

"An angel?" he furrows his brow. "In Hell? God must've really fucked up this time."

Samandriel's expression darkens as he draws his lips tightly across his face. "Tell me about it."

A pause.

"I'm Adam." He offers a calloused hand. Samandriel hesitates for a moment, then takes it.

"Nice to meet you, I guess. Where are we, exactly?" The question leaves his lips and falls heavily onto the ground. Samandriel doesn't really mean it.

"You're looking at the guy who Michael wore to church," Adam forces a smile, but it doesn't match up with his eyes. He tiredly waves a hand to the empty darkness behind him. "Welcome to the Pit."

~~~

They fall into a routine.

Adam is the caretaker. He learns as he goes, stuffing Samandriel's wounds with torn fabric and holding him above the burning desert when they both can't walk any further. The angel winces as they march across the sand beneath their feet, sweat beading down his face.

"Why are we walking, Adam?" Samandriel manages. His limbs ache, pleading for rest. "Where are we going?"

Adam grits his teeth, stopping in his tracks.

"You really wanna know?" Samandriel nods, eyes wide, and Adam's heart flips in his chest. He doesn't belong here. Neither of them really do, but Samandriel especially. Weren't angels supposed to go to Heaven once they die or something? Adam isn't sure. He inhales sharply and turns his mind back to the other man's question.

"Over there is where Michael left me," he breathes, pointing in the direction they just came from. "And we're going as far away as possible."

Samandriel's eyes scan Adam's features, slowly. "What did they do to you?" He asks, flitting to the scars crossing Adam's lips and the gashes and tears beneath his flimsy flannel shirt.

"You're the one with friggin holes drilled into your head, man. I'm not your concern right now," Adam hisses. He begins to walk again, faster now, and the angel struggles to keep up.

Samandriel is silent after that.

~~~

They fall into a routine.

The skies of Hell burn orange at night, flickering across the edges of the rust coloured canyon. When Adam squints and leans back, it almost looks like a sunset. He clenches his fists, carving little crescent moons into his palms with his fingernails as he watches Samandriel sleep. 

The angel furrows his brow when he dreams. He relaxes, letting shuddering breaths escape the pink of his lips. Adam brushes the golden hair from his sweaty brow, rubbing small circles into his back as the nightmares play out.

"It's okay, it's gonna be alright..." Adam whispers.

Samandriel wakes up screaming, clawing at his throat in the darkness and gasping for air. The tension in the air is suffocating, but Adam holds him down, pressing him against the hot rock bed that serves as Hell's ground. Burn marks cover the both of them, angry charred patches of skin where their shoes have worn down; enough to make it impossible to walk without feeling a sharp stinging pain radiate throughout their bodies. 

Samandriel doesn't heal for weeks. The bloody holes in his head are deep, and they leave trails of red wherever he steps, little flecks of crimson that sometimes gets all over Adam's shirt, especially at night when Adam rocks him back and forth, back and forth. Samandriel's cheek rests on his chest, pressed against Adam as much as possible.

Sometimes Samandriel wants to be there for Adam when his dreams come, but he drifts off too long and misses his chance.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! :D


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